wispy chiffon curtains parted a tiny bit
I faced a pink storybook horizon
a sailboat glided past,
completing the canvas
making it surreally magical
the dried flowers matched
I ran for my camera
hoping to capture this
so I could paint it at a later time
alas, it never looked the same
not ever that glorious
luckily, it was seared into
my artist mind
Strength sparce, shattered self-esteem
Should she shout, should she scream
Stunned she sat, spirit suddenly shorn
Should she show said 'spouse's scorn'
Sorrow's sting submerges, silence surrounds, sanity slips
Splintered, she seeks satisfaction searching spite's sinking ships
Ripples of lava,
Spewing out from volcanos
I am this flaw…
Sweet shards of I-don’t-knows
I am burning quite aflame
You like to always blame me
For your ridiculous game
Of blasphemous, insidious envy
I’d rather become numb with bad news
Instead of succumbing to nothing
I am ancient, gross gum on your shoes…
Darling, you were my everything
Until you stepped all over me and lied
Until you pressed upon me vanity
The darkness is somewhat dwelling inside
Our craniums of unknown gravity
You’re the lava in my heart's every beat
I am the volcanos that erupt in repeat
I’m falling apart by the seams of agony
You take me away with your melancholy
For Timothy Lee
fragile hearts
found their strength
when we linked
always knew
you were there
just not where
nor the when
long the wait
kept in faith
many years
of love’s cost
saw faith tossed
you appeared
quickly neared
two hearts seared
together
nothing stains
freedom reigns
never masks
no fear walls
blessings all
love is wealth
you freed me
my true self
such gold stash
will still last
when we pass
Valentine
gorgeous man
love of mine
I am thine
my heart soars
beside yours
Seared
Satin
Held by strings
With scents
+--------------------+
Of cinnamon flavor
Colored umber
Flames burn
Russell Sivey
Entrant into Nette Onclaud's "SEPTOLET THE PUPPET" contest
9/12/2012
A Ribbon-Ray, Across The Sea
Flung and Flown, So Prettily …
Velvet, Orange and Glittery
… A Liquid, Glistening Eulogy
From A Blood-Gold, Ball On Fire !
The Real-Bright, Red Baron Flyer
Descending Lower and Lower
Propellers, Turning Slower and Slower
Will He Crash, or Glide on Sea ?
Will His Purple-Smoke, Haze Over Me ?
I Stand Transfixed To See
Should He Plunge, to His Depth Suddenly
Not To Worry, Flight, is in Good Hands
He’s Touched-Down, Countless Times – Again and Again
For Red Baron and Ribbon-Ray Has Set Before
Pouring Ripples of Wine, at My Sandcastle Shore …